An Unexpected Detour
by miss-carlisle
Summary: What if Loki had escaped Doctor Strange's trap before Thor arrived at the sanctum? (a Ragnarok oneshot) Characters: Loki, Doctor Strange, Thor (no slash)


There was nothing but empty air all around him. He was tumbling end over end, careening wildly out of control. Everything was dark, an infinite void somewhere in-between. Such places were a mystery to most—even to a number of experienced sorcerers—but not to the God of Mischief.

Loki was temporarily immobilized by images of stars and nebulas and a cracked visage flying through his mind's eye—memories of a time when all he had wanted was to not exist. But he soon gathered his wits about him, blinking back the horrors he had seen and personally experienced at the hands of the Mad Titan. Gaining control of his flailing limbs, he leveled himself out into a steady free fall. Both arms were extended straight out from his sides, his face turned downward. One moment, he had been standing beside his brother on a sidewalk in New York City, but now, he had fallen into some sort of magical black hole.

Closing his eyes, Loki reached out beyond himself, attempting to track the source of the power that trapped him here. Finding a way out was not enough—whoever had done this would pay dearly for it.

The power signature was close—very close. Like a spider sensing the slightest vibration of a distant web, he was rapidly narrowing his search. His prey would not escape his wrath for long.

 _There._

A delighted grin replaced his grim focus. "Now I've got you."

Thrusting his right arm straight down past his head, Loki flexed his fingers, and bright green energy sprang from their tips. Some feet below him, the darkness parted, a border of the same emerald hue shimmering around the opening's edges. An instant later, he slipped through, and the portal immediately closed behind him.

Loki only glimpsed the elaborately patterned floor before he crashed into it. His wrists and forearms caught the brunt of the impact, his ribs following shortly thereafter. Sharp pain flashed through every inch of him, and he lay completely still for several moments, assessing the damage. When he determined that nothing was broken or otherwise in need of immediate attention, Loki groaned and pushed himself up onto his elbows with a grimace.

He was in a very large, dimly lit room with many doors. Vertical rectangular lights lined the walls, and there were lamps sitting on small tables accompanied by elegant armchairs—well, elegant by Midgardian standards. His lip curled with disdain as he slowly climbed to his feet. What a hideous place…

"Loki."

Stiffening, he spun to his left and faced a set of wide, railed stairs that led to an upper floor. On the landing stood a dark haired man wearing a knee-length blue robe and an outrageous scarlet cloak with a flared collar.

"I see that you were able to escape my trap after all."

"Child's play," the Asgardian scoffed, fingers twitching imperceptibly at his sides. "I don't know who you are, but you've made a very unfortunate mistake."

"I'm Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme and master of this sanctum."

" _Sorcerer Supreme?_ " Loki laughed scornfully. "What could a Midgardian know of the mystic arts? What could a mere mortal understand of the deep mysteries of the universe?"

"More than you might think," muttered Strange.

The trickster grinned and shook his head, spreading his arms wide. "Yet here I am. I'm afraid that your feeble trick caused me little more than a temporary delay."

"Well," Strange canted his head, "I guess I'll have to try harder this time."

Loki's eyes flickered dangerously, the doctor's gaze hardening. A tense pause passed between them. Then, the Asgardian's lips curved into a confident smirk.

Both of them sprang into action simultaneously, as if they had made some silent agreement. Strange began an elaborate gesture with his hands but flinched back when Loki suddenly appeared right in front of him. Abruptly switching tactics, he made a throwing motion with his right arm and lashed out with a crackling whip of fiery energy. But it fell harmlessly through the illusion, which disappeared with a shimmer of emerald light.

His eyes widened in realization. He started to turn, but the real Loki had already planted a foot in his back. Strange tumbled face-first down the steps, cloak tangling around his legs. When he finally rolled to a stop, the Asgardian slowly started to descend the stairs. His chin was held proudly aloft, his pale eyes glittering with satisfaction as a golden helm materialized over his raven hair. His all-black suit vanished, a wave of scintillating energy unveiling a flowing green cape and an ensemble of black leather.

Strange scrambled to his feet, sweeping his cloak behind him and summoning a glowing orange disk upon each hand. Loki grinned and brandished a pair of daggers in response. The mortal's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing in concentration as he flung one of the disks at his foe's head. Loki's forward progression remained unimpeded, however, for he easily shifted his body sideways and avoided the projectile. Then he charged.

He exploded toward his enemy with an unforeseen burst of power and speed, unleashing a flurry of attacks with his twin blades. Already off balance, Strange desperately parried each blow with the one disk that remained. Green and gold flashes accompanied each impact the Asgardian's blades made upon his own weapon, each of their opposing energies hissing and snapping at the other.

Loki narrowly managed to duck his horned head in time when Strange recalled the second disk to his left hand. Seeing an opening, the Midgardian delivered a forceful kick to his ribs as he straightened, but Loki scarcely flinched. Crouching low and slipping around behind Strange as he lunged forward, the trickster tossed his right dagger into the air and caught it in a reverse grip. He brought the blade down diagonally, grazing the doctor's right shoulder as he turned to meet him.

With a cry of both pain and frustration, Strange sprang back and suddenly glided into the air. As he steadily drifted higher and higher, he fired several blasts of sapphire energy from the palms of his hands. Loki danced around the first two easily, but the third collided with his chest and sent him sprawling onto his back. Angrily, he gritted his teeth and rolled left as a fourth blast crashed into the floor where he had lain only a moment prior. Then he propelled himself upright just as Strange dared to fling the fiery whip at him once more.

Sidestepping, Loki snatched it when it flew past him and pulled hard. Though the crackling energy burned his hand, he refused to let go. Instead, he tightened his grip and clenched his teeth, yanking the doctor down to the floor. Strange landed with a loud crash and skidded across the floor, the whip sputtering into nonexistence.

A dagger materialized in the Asgardian's right hand as he strode toward his fallen foe. Strange's trembling fingers extended in another attempt to fend him off, but Loki crushed them beneath his heel. An agonized cry tore from the doctor's throat, and he continued to struggle, but he was unable to escape the trickster's grasp as he stepped around behind him and jerked Strange's head up from the floor by a fistful of his black hair.

"Sorcerer Supreme indeed," Loki hissed, pressing the blade to his throat. "This really has been fun, but your time is up now, doctor."

A sudden crash directly in front of them caused the Asgardian's head to snap up in surprise. The doors to the sanctum had burst open, sunlight beaming into the dark room. The blinding rays streamed past an all too familiar silhouette towering in the entryway, and Loki instinctively stiffened.

"Release him, Brother!" a masculine voice thundered. " _Now._ "

Slowly, reluctantly, Loki loosened his grip and then let go entirely, allowing Strange to collapse back onto the floor with a groan. "Poor timing as always, Brother."


End file.
